


Of the Stars

by craighnaboo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: (lowkey a spitefic), Canon Compliant - Season 1, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force-Sensitive Original Character(s), Found Family, Slow Burn, and I mean the SLOWEST OF BURNS, its all about the yearning, outlander references a plenty, this is how i cope from season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craighnaboo/pseuds/craighnaboo
Summary: (NEW CHAPTERS AFTER S2)Now a clan of two, Din finds himself quested with returning the Child to his own kind. A year later, and he is still unsuccessful. But perhaps he has found his answer on a small planet in the Outer Rim—an intriguing stranger that has as much lust for danger as he does.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin & Original Character(s), Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. The Soldier and the Spy

The blazing sun shone down on Ostor, beating down on the people who were bustling around the small town. She walked through the marketplace as traders yelled out their prices, and drew her hood tighter to shield herself from the sun’s harsh rays and from the vendor’s stares. This dust bucket of a planet provided her with a fresh start after the fall of the Empire, albeit a very lonely one, where every day was the same and only a few familiar faces brightened up her days.

“Hello Fes,” she greeted her favorite vendor. Two shining gold irises looked up from the cart, his eyes crinkling affectionately when they landed on her figure.

“Good day, young one,” the familiar Weequay greeted her with a soft-spoken, friendly tone. They exchanged polite smiles as he reached for a ripe shuura and star fruit, looking around him carefully before extending his arm out to her. “Your usual for today? Arrived just this morning, and I set this one aside just for you.”

Her smile grew into a jovial grin as she took the fruit from his grasp, placing the starfruit in the old, worn leather crossbody that held her belongings. “You’re too good to me, Fes. No amount of credits in the world would come close to repaying you for your generosity.”

“Well,” he spoke in a gruff voice and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as he accepted her payment. “Perhaps, you know, if the medcenter isn’t too hectic… If you happened to mention my kind heart and giving nature to Drezir next time you are working alongside him…”

“Ha!” She pointed her finger, still clutching the shuura fruit in her hand. She feigned offense to his innocent confession. “I knew it was all a ruse to win Drezir’s heart.” They both laughed before she continued, mimicking his composure from before. “I may slip something into conversation the next time I see him, possibly.”

“You are sweeter than a wasaka berry.” Fes shook his head as she began to walk away from his fruit stand. Bringing the fruit to her mouth, she bit into the shuura’s skin and tasted its crisp, sweet pulp. Juices dribbled down her chin and she wiped them away with a hearty chuckle.

_Little does he know that Drezir’s breakfast every morning is star fruit and is too nervous himself to approach you. He tells me ‘I will one day, promise,’ before wringing his shaking hands before he returns to his work. Maybe I should just ask him to go on an outing with me and we just casually stop by the—_

Her chest tightened, and she stumbled a bit as she stopped dead in her tracks, almost dropping the half-eaten shuura fruit onto the sand beneath her feet. The shine that came off of that armor immediately caught her attention. His stance. The rifle that hung across his back. In spite of any logical sense that circled through her mind, reminding her just how safe this planet had been from such beings, the guild symbol she could make out on his leather bandolier gave away that the armored man was a bounty hunter.

Her mind flashed back to the warning that had stayed with her since she was a child. The Empire was known for hiring bounty hunters in order to track down people like her. Whether it was for eradication, weaponization, or some other twisted method of establishing more power for themselves, she had no idea, and she never wanted to find out. Not only that, but her past involvement with the Rebel Alliance made the potential target on her back that much larger. She had heard stories of poor rebels being sought out, even after they were discharged, by those who still long for Imperial rule. Although the Empire had fallen, their presence was still alive and felt all throughout the galaxy.

She knew this stranger’s kind and had been careful to evade any that passed through Ostor. The only thing that was unfamiliar was the corroded metal sphere that was floating right beside him. This being stood amongst the crowd of the marketplace with a commanding stature, as if he were used to the attention. As she took a step back, his head turned to face her direction down the pathway of the marketplace. She finally recognized the design of the helmet and the distinctive T-shaped visor, just as it had been described to her.

A Mandalorian.

If it was true that he was here to collect her, there was no way she was getting out of this. She knew that deep down. When his footfalls ceased, certain that his gaze was fixed on no surrounding villager but her, she tightly gripped her staff and brought it closer to her body. Her eyes flickered over to the pod once more, swearing she saw movement beneath its cover, and back to the Mandalorian just twenty feet away. Her mind raced, coming up with no solid course of action, riddled with desperation.

So, she ran. In a panic-stricken sprint, she took off down a nearby side path that led to a darkened alley-way.

“Hey!” her pursuer called after her. Her calves burned as she wouldn’t let herself fall behind, her shoulders twisting as she used her entire body to propel herself forward. She knew that despite her head start the Mandalorian wasn’t too far behind. Any turn that presented itself, she hastily followed its path but never quite lost him. Even grabbing onto a low-hanging beam and swinging to the other side of what seemed like a fenced off dead-end proved to be futile, as he took another path and practically came up right beside her. A hunter that anticipated his target’s next two steps. He was good at his job, she had to give him that.

“Sorry!” she called out to some villagers, pulling down a bunch of crates on the side of the building and praying their contents spilled out as she faced forward and kept running. Once more. Twice. Three times she heaved more discarded junk into the alley, hoping it would trip him up, but nothing seemed to put any distance between them.

Alternating blinding light and shaded areas from the sun protectors above passed overhead as they ran through the alley. She serpentined down the length of the path, keeping her body close to the wall once she was covered by shade once more, and ducked into an entranceway. She kept her back to the rough wall of the mountainous terrain the people of Ostor had built their livelihoods into and tried to slow her breathing as her pursuer slowed his pace down as well. 

There was no question he could still see her, and she knew it probably gave him a false sense of security that he was about to end this chase. Her perfect opening presented itself and the sound of electric charges pierced the air, a purple glow coming from the two ends of the staff that jutted out and came into contact with the exposed right side of the Mandalorian. His body collapsed to the ground with a pained, guttural grunt, muscles still contracting as he tried to get his bearings.

She took a few steps backward, unable to tear her eyes away from her potential captor. She was exhausted and still trying to process how she had finally surprised him in their chase, but she willed her legs to carry her a little bit farther.

She made it past two dwellings, just about to turn into the opening of the marketplace once again, when she felt something cold and firm wrap itself around her ankles and pull her feet out from under her. Her hair whipped in front of her face, adding to the element of surprise as she hit the ground violently, any ounce of wind stored in her lungs knocked out of her forcefully. The electrostaff was thrown from her grasp and clattered onto the floor just out of her reach. A pained noise escaped her lips as she struggled to take a breath, feeling her body being dragged backwards. She whipped her head around and saw the Mandalorian, still on the ground, using whatever strength he could muster to haul her in with a whipcord thrower attached to his wrist.

“Let me go! You have the wrong girl!” she pleaded, exasperated and hopeful there might have been a sliver of truth in what she was saying. Her legs flailed as she tried to free them, only making the fibercord dig into the thin skin around her ankles even harder. She cried out in pain but didn’t stop fighting to free herself, trapped in her own cognitive dissonance. The fear that had a hold on her body was stronger than the cord around her legs, and what she knew awaited her upon her capture drove her into a state of terror. Gloved hands seized her forearms and she was rendered immobile as he held her down. His visor was trained on her, finally face to face, and in spite of the fear his menacing stare elicited, she somehow couldn’t look away.

“Who are you working with?” an accusatory growl came from the Mandalorian, somehow snapping her out of it.

“What?”

“Who are you reporting to that I’m here with the kid?”

She shook her head, convinced she had hit her head when she had fallen and must be hearing him incorrectly. A kid?

Leisurely, the pod she noticed before floated down the alleyway, following them since the beginning of their chase, and stopped right beside the Mandalorian. A pointed, green ear popped out from inside the pod and two dark round eyes peered at the sight below him as his small head came into view. She could have sworn the creature whimpered, tilting his little head to the side as he observed her. She furrowed her eyebrows, a sense of familiarity present. She knew those eyes, but she was certain this was the first time she had come across this child. Her look of confusion only deepened as a powerful, otherworldly feeling engulfed her entire body. The small youngling seemed to sense it as well, and it was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She felt the power he possessed, and they shared a feeling of relief—no—a kinship. A connection. The youngling’s large ears dropped, and he made a small noise of delight, prompting the Mandalorian to unconsciously loosen his hold on her.

“ _I_ am not reporting to anyone,” she grumbled, her voice dripping with annoyance. Her gaze finally disconnected from the mysterious child, and she fought to somehow wriggle her arm’s out of the man’s grip to sit up. “I’m just trying to report to work at the medcenter.”

The Mandalorian didn’t move and she wondered if he’d buy her explanation. His helmet shook slightly, trying to piece together their miscommunication. “You—but you—you took off running as soon as you saw me. I saw you! You noticed—you noticed the kid, and that’s when you ran away.” His words vibrated violently through the vocoder as he barked his accusations at her.

Her body went still. “I ran because I saw _you_ ,” she said apprehensively, dropping to a whisper. After years of hiding, she was worried she would say too much. She met his gaze with a challenge clouded somewhere in her eyes and continued, an edge to her voice. “You are a bounty hunter, are you not?”

The Mandalorian seemed to find himself voiceless, as if the rug had been pulled out from under him. Then suddenly, he was the one being pulled—backwards. “Hey!” he shouted indignantly, helmet snapping to face behind him as he… chastised the child?

She took the opportunity to sit up and begin loosening the cord to free her screaming ankles, or at least trying to loosen it. With one more frustrated tug the cord released itself from her skin, and flew back towards the now upright Mandalorian, his finger pressing a small button on his right vambrace. His stance was a bit more relaxed now, but still held onto the authoritative spirit that made her bite her tongue. She waited for him to make his next move and collect his victim, but he took a small step forward and extended a hand.

“I am sorry for the misunderstanding,” an apology rumbled from the helmet, his voice clear and concise. She studied his body, searching for any sign he had ulterior motives, but what she found made her nerves settle. His body language, much like his tone of voice, appeared genuine. From what she could tell, he also didn’t have any tracking fobs on him.

Gingerly, she reached up to grasp his gloved hand and he pulled her up slowly. Though she was nervous that he had led her to a false sense of security, she was distracted by a dull pain as she put pressure on her ankles and let out a small noise through her teeth. The Mandalorian tightened his grip to steady her, looking down to assess how badly she was hurt.

“I’m okay, it’s really not that bad. I just wasn’t expecting it when I stood up.” She rolled her ankles a few times and quirked the side of her mouth up as if to reassure him. Suddenly, her eyes darted from his helmet to the side of his abdomen right where she had jabbed her staff, the side of his body he had been turning away from her, the material of his shirt charred. “Oh, but I really did a number on you, huh?”

“I’ve had worse,” he shrugged, abruptly letting her go and walking over to the pod with the child in it. A few ragged breaths escaped from him, picked up and enhanced through his vocoder, his right side a little more rigid as he walked.

She carefully walked over to retrieve her weapon, holding it at her side to give the Mandalorian a show of good faith. She felt bad for harming him, knowing now they had incorrectly seen each other as a threat only to be left with some pointless injuries. She took a deep breath before she finally spoke. “I have some medical supplies in my dwelling. I could patch you up if you wanted. It’s just around the corner really, much closer than the medcenter. Besides, it is a little more inconspicuous if that would make you more comfortable.”

She had expected him to keep walking, not say a word, and leave her there without another thought. Instead, he turned around and said, “Thank you,” slightly dipping his helmet toward her.

They proceeded to walk through the marketplace, and she led the way just a few steps ahead of the Mandalorian. She was painfully aware of how on edge she appeared, looking over her shoulder as if he were a viper waiting for a vulnerable moment to snatch his prey.

The child tilted his face up to his guardian, a silent request hidden behind those doe-eyes that was soon met with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry for pursuing you,” he apologized once more. “I had believed you were a spy for the Imperial remnant. When you were staring at me and the child, I thought you were running to report that you recognized us.”

His concern was surprising, but she stopped in her tracks upon hearing his words, the two of them now standing alongside each other.

“The Imperial remnant? What in the universe did you do to piss them off?” she questioned him, baffled at what he disclosed.

His helmet drifted to the child for a moment. “I stole something they wanted.”

A short amused laugh tore through her throat. “Bastards. They probably deserved worse than what they got.”

They stopped at a small door built into the side of a small range of rainbow mountains protruding from Ostor’s sandy ground, and she entered her passcode to open the door for them. With the little one coming up right behind him, the Mandalorian stepped into a humble, but tidy abode, with just a small cot in the corner next to a kitchenette and refresher.

“You can sit over on the bed if you’d like. I’m just going to grab my med kit,” she said, making her way across the dwelling. The Mandalorian walked slowly towards the bed as he looked around. She slyly kept her eyes on him as she gathered her medical supplies in the refresher. It was obvious he was studying her simple home, no doubt taking in how little decor she had throughout the place, how her belongings were of the bare essential. Leaving behind everything from her childhood and devoting her early twenties to the Alliance, along with having to start her life over on her own, left her with feelings of emptiness that defined her life in more ways than one.

“I’m a little low on bacta gel, but I can use an analgesic gel along with it if that would help,” she offered, already spreading the containers onto the bed as she kneeled at its side. She looked up at him expectantly and waited for him to sit down so she could get to work. Finally, he lowered himself onto the bed so he was facing her. She gave him an earnest smile, hesitantly bringing her fingers to his injury.

Her fingertips delicately brushed against the burned material and, carefully so as not to touch him, peeled it aside to see the angry, raw flesh on his abdomen and untouched skin that was much like her own. _So he is a human underneath all that metal_. The skin was a deep golden tan, as if he were born to spend his days in the sun and not covered in armor, and she felt guilty for having marred it. She buried that feeling and returned her eyes to him, opening the bacta container and dipping her fingers into the substance. Bringing her fingertips to his wound once more, she delicately applied the medicine to the burn. His muscles clenched as he let out a low hiss, and her hand retreated for a moment, his body still tense when her fingers returned.

He had been silent since he had stepped into the dwelling, something she was very aware of. With a small voice, she tried to make conversation with the only question that had been burning in her mind. “What is your name?”

He studied her for a moment, watching as she carefully rubbed the bacta over his skin and how she tried to avert her curious eyes from him, before giving her an answer. “Mando.”

“Mando?” she pondered. “As in ‘Mandalorian?’ They call you what you are?”

He gave her a small nod, no need for further details. She moved to place the pain-relieving salve onto his wound when he spoke once more. “And what do they call you?”

A small smile worked across her lips as the cool gel came into contact with his body, drawing a sound of relief from him. She met his gaze once more. “I guess you can call me ‘Medic.’”

“Thank you, _baar’ur_.” He tilted his helmet towards her in gratitude, allowing her to finish her work.

She was just about done placing a piece of gauze over his injury when a small clatter came from the far corner of the room, a giggle immediately following. The child was reaching over the edge of his pod, his eyes set on a small potted cactus that had been right next to the dish that was now in pieces on the ground.

 _Baar’ur_ sprang up and crossed the room quickly, picking the pot up and out of his reach. A delighted giggle came from the child, pleased with his actions. A toothy smile was plastered on his small face once she appeared at his side, as if his end goal was never getting a hold of the plant. She kneeled down to his level, about to make a comment about how she hated that plate anyway, when he lowered his hand parallel to the floor. Slowly, a single broken piece started to float off the ground, eliciting an amused laugh from the youngling that was responsible for the phenomenon. The piece didn’t make it very far off the ground before it dropped once more, with only the two of them witnessing it.

A grin expressing unbridled joy spread across her face, barely able to contain herself. She had learned to control her abilities as well as she could from her family, (though they could never truly know because they were not like her), all while hiding it from the outside world. But this… This was what she had been waiting for. Even though he was a baby, there was no denying how strong he was. The same feeling of similarity and belonging flowed between them once more, except this time she could put a name to it. He was like her: a _Force-user_. She was in utter disbelief at what had just unfolded, but she did her best to keep it to herself. Clearing her throat, she stood up next to the child and did her best to appear nonchalant.

“He’s a very curious little thing. Very cute,” she said adoringly, and reached out to secure him back into the pod.

Before she could pick him up, Mando was on his feet and at her side, moving swiftly for someone who had just received medical attention. “Don’t!” 

He was defensive, his tone urgent. She couldn’t help but jump a little at him coming at her like that, and tried not to take personal offense to his callous actions. Sighing softly, Mando reached around her to pick the youngling up, struggling to calm down the antsy child.

She backed away from the two travelers and mumbled a quick apology under her breath, her eyes landing on the signet of the Mandalorian’s striking right pauldron as it was uncovered from his cape. Her eyes widened as they focused on the mudhorn—the same mudhorn mold she had seen in a particularly vivid dream. The image was branded into her mind the minute it appeared to her all those years ago, the first night she had spent on Ostor. The same dream where she had seen those big, dark eyes belonging to the giggling green baby that was now reaching his small hand out towards her. Though she could never forget it, she had considered it decidedly insignificant until now. Her dreams had always been a little true to life, almost too realistic for a typical dream, but none had ever predicted a future event. The Force worked in mysterious ways. She was certain of that.

“How’d you come across the little one?” _Baar’ur_ spoke a little too quickly as she walked back over to the bed to grab her med kit, desperate to hide her small breakthrough from the Mandalorian.

“He is…under my care,” he finally said, as if he were choosing his words carefully.

“Looks just like you.” She smirked, trying to reintroduce the note of levity their conversation had before. He had turned to tuck the child securely in when she took in a small breath, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. “I’ve never met a Mandalorian before. You’re not what I expected,” she admitted, “but perhaps that’s what makes our meeting so special.”

Mando held her stare, his chest raising as if he were about to say something that had been weighing heavily on him. Moving towards the door with the pod trailing behind him, a low voice spoke through the vocoder. “We’d better go.”

Her face fell, looking to the broken dish at her feet. They had only just met, and she had fulfilled her promise of healing him, so she should have expected that his business here had concluded, but that didn’t stop the disappointment that managed to burrow its way into her chest. Not when she had been so sure that they were the identities of those simple images that came to her subconscious when she was younger. A dream that had been tucked away waiting for the proper moment to resurface. It had to have meant something.

 _Baar’ur_ cleared her throat, quickly stuffing the medicine into the bag that still hung around her body, and walked over to the door where Mando and the child silently stood. 

“Thank you again, for your hospitality,” he spoke in a low, even tone, but there was a hint of sincerity that may have made her cheeks flush a bit.

She opened the door for them and waved her hand as if to tell him to think nothing of it. “I bet you say that to all the girls that almost incapacitate you.”

They stood in the doorway for a moment as he studied the polite but dispirited smile on her face, when the child cooed softly and prompted him to finally move. Mando had not stepped even two feet out into the village when two white troopers came into view.

 _Baar’ur_ didn’t even have the chance to warn him as the Imps spotted them almost immediately, yelling and rushing towards them. “Hey!”

Clutching his cloak, she grabbed him forcefully and pulled him back into her dwelling, closing and pressing her back against the door as soon as the pod had followed them in. “Bad news, they found you.”

“ _Firfiek_!” Blaster already in hand, he continued to mutter under his breath in Mando’a in regards to the Imperial scum, his tone laced with irritation. It was his turn to grab _Baar’ur_ and pulled her behind him. That door would only keep out those troopers for so long. “Stay behind me. Keep the kid away from them no matter what, do you understand?”

“How’d they even track you?” She disobeyed him only for a moment, swiftly grabbing her staff that had been resting against the wall. The staff shook in her hands as she clutched it to her chest, trying her best to settle her nerves. 

_Whatever he stole from the remnant better be worth all this trouble._

Sparks surrounded the frame of the door, and there were only seconds left until the troopers found their way in. “Somehow, they always do.”

The child looked up at his guardian, and it only took _Baar’ur_ one glance at the expression of distress on his innocent face for her heart to break. Suddenly she began to relax, turning on the electrostaff as it came across the front of the pod as another line of defense against the Imps. She raised the shock level from the lowest stun setting she had used on Mando earlier to about ten levels higher. She wasn’t sure what kind of damage it would do, but she was more than willing to test it out on those dirty troopers. The outline of the doorframe grew brighter.

“What do we do, Mando?” She was certain since he’d had experience with these guys that he surely had a plan. The sparks disappeared and it grew quiet outside.

“Stand our ground, and fight.”

The door flew into the dwelling, the two filthy bucketheads wasting no time as they entered with their blasters firing at the three of them. The beskar of Mando’s vambraces deflected the bolts that came their way, and he moved forward to grab the blaster’s barrel to disarm one of them.

The other Imp took the opportunity to move toward _Baar’ur_ and the child, the ends of her staff blocking each of his shots. As one shot came in direct line with the pod, she blocked it quickly and the blast was sent over in the direction of the bed where a forgotten bottle of isopropyl alcohol had been left. The bottle exploded onto the bed, setting it ablaze.

“Oh, kriff,” _Baar’ur_ whispered, her eyes wide in horror as the flames rapidly engulfed the side of her dwelling. The trooper lowered his gun and used the distraction of the fire to attack her, dodging her staff as it swung over his head and just missing his side. A punch landed square on her cheek, almost allowing the trooper to deliver another blow to her other side. As he came forward to hit her once more, her staff caught his arm and she twisted it to lock her hold on him, jabbing the end of the staff into his helmet to catch him off guard.

She shoved the Imp away as she prepared to strike again when a shot rang out, and the trooper dropped to the floor revealing Mando standing behind him with a smoking blaster. _Baar’ur_ looked to the other side of him to see the other trooper lying lifeless on the floor, the flames starting to meet his body.

She looked around her to see half of her room consumed by the fire, spreading quickly with each second she stood there in shock.

“Let’s get out of here.” Mando’s voice cut through the commotion, finally snapping her out of it. If he had been speaking to her before then she had no idea. Her eyes finally met his figure, brightly reflecting the orange around them, standing at the doorway with the pod. Extending his hand, he spoke urgently. “Come on!”

Without a second thought, she grabbed his gloved hand and he wasted no time leading them out into the marketplace. The blazing sun beat down on them as they raced down the pathway and, as hot as it was, it was nowhere near as brutal as the inside of the burning house. 

_Baar’ur_ followed Mando through the village, trusting him blindly, as she had no clue where he was heading. Her ankles were still a bit sore from before, but she did her best to ignore the dull shooting pain she felt with each step. Just as she was thinking that it was only a matter of time before the other Imps that were surely on this planet caught up to them, a sudden flash of red bolts passed her. 

_That didn’t take long._

Mando pulled the rifle off of his back, only pausing momentarily to aim it behind him and vaporize a few of their assailants as they continued to run. 

Under different circumstances, the sight of those men meeting their demise in such a way would have made her blood run cold from the initial shock of such a weapon’s power, but there was no time to process that as more shots were fired in their direction. Her staff blocked a few bolts that managed to come their way, one ricocheting off the end and landing perfectly into the chest of some pathetic Imp. She looked to the child, oblivious to the gunfire and happily smiling as his pod zoomed through the street. She would have been tempted to make a comment to Mando about how his little partner was an adrenaline junkie, that he may have been more fearless than the Mandalorian himself, but the sight of a familiar fruit stand on fire amongst the other smoking vendor carts was enough for her heart to plummet. Her steps faltered only for a moment, visibly shaken by the implication of the scene. She clenched her jaw and tore her eyes away, forcing herself to keep moving.

Mando quickly glanced behind to see how much distance there was between them and the troopers, picking up his pace as the _Razor Crest_ came into view at the edge of town. Pressing the button to open the ship’s door, he turned to take out a couple of troopers that started closing in on them.

“Get on the ship!” Mando stood at the bottom of the ramp, covering her and the child as she ran aboard his ship. He followed shortly, closing the door behind him and walking over to the ladder. _Baar’ur_ was right on his heels, a shadow that was merely going through the motions of climbing and pulling herself up towards the upper deck of his ship. A door opened, leading to the ship’s cockpit, and Mando made himself at home in the pilot’s seat, pressing some buttons and flipping a few toggles to start the engine.

 _Baar’ur_ sat in one of the passenger seats behind him, the adrenaline in her system starting to wane as what just happened finally set in and consumed her mind. Her legs began to shake as the ship jostled about, not completely sure if it was from the takeoff or from blaster shots, but she couldn’t pull herself out of her thoughts to assess what was going on. Her entire way of life had vanished within an instant. She would never know if Fes had been behind that cart when it had been hit or if he had gotten to safety, just like he would never know that she escaped her house before it burned down. Though it was hard to admit, when she replayed the scene of her dwelling going up in flames, the only feeling that settled in her chest was one of apathy. The time she spent in that dwelling was full of loneliness and pain, souring any sort of attachment to the place she should have called home.

Ostor had never really been her home. But, where was home now?

“Are you looking for work?”

Her head snapped up to face the source of the question, almost too in shock to speak. Had she misheard him? Should she wait and see if he spoke again to save face in case she made a fool of herself?

 _Baar’ur_ tried to swallow the lump in her throat to answer him, but it seemed to only grow as she struggled. “Look, Mando. Thank you for what you did back there. You saved my life, but you shouldn’t feel obligated—”

“I could use a crewmate skilled with a weapon like that. Some good medical knowledge,” Mando proposed. He was cautious as he spoke, but delivered his words with nothing but sincerity. “I need an extra hand with the kid. I could pay you handsomely.”

“The child, he must be special,” she postulated, or at least that is how it appeared to the Mandalorian.

With a small gesture towards her, the child perked his ears up and titled his head to the side. She knew Mando had to have been aware of the child’s abilities, and the thought crossed her mind of sharing how she and the child were one in the same. But she couldn’t bring herself to reveal her secret. She had been living with the idea that her existence was a threat for years, concealing her use of the Force in the midst of a galactic war, and suppressing the baggage that came with it. That wasn’t an easy barrier to break through. Although he cared for the child, there was no guarantee that he would react positively toward her once she disclosed her abilities. For now, just to be safe, it was better to keep it quiet. She and the child shared a knowing look, an unsaid understanding that this was to stay between them.

Unaware of this, Mando offered her a curt nod before he turned to face forward once more.

“Yes.” His tone remained neutral, but faintly wavered when he continued. “You could say that.”

The child made a small murmuring sound at his words, and _Baar’ur_ released a deep sigh as she came to grips with her situation. Her mind drifted back to what Mando had offered, and doubt set in. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, back straightening against the chair.

“What’s the catch?” she challenged.

“No catch.”

 _Baar’ur_ looked over at the child, whose eyes were practically pleading for her to stay. Her curiosity to learn more about this child, and possibly more about herself, was something she couldn’t deny. Her vision of these two travelers may have—no, had to have led to this moment. It seemed too good to be true. An opportunity for a fresh start, and never having to go back to that dust bowl planet ever again, it was enough to take a leap of faith. A blooming smile graced her features, and she looked to the man who led them into the stars.

“So, where to, Mando?”

**Mando’a**

_Baar’ur_ : Medic  
_Firfiek_ : Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading! This baby has been sitting in my docs for months and she is finally published just in time for season 2. Also, an incredibly ENORMOUS thank you to my beta and best friend, preciouslittleingenue here on AO3. The next chapter will be up on Friday :)


	2. Dialogue of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now a passenger aboard the Razor Crest, Baar'ur struggles to bring the Mandalorian out of his beskar shell, and finally gets a moment alone with the curious creature that she shares a remarkable bond with.

It had been about a few days into travelling across the galaxy, and Mando had decided to stop for a supply run, choosing another rather desolate, sandy planet. He had left just before sunrise, early enough that _Baar’ur_ had still been asleep as he slipped out. Returning from his outing, he stepped onto the floor of the _Razor Crest_ with the child following closely in tow and set down two rolls of fabric next to the ladder. He stood up and twisted his back, stretching his taut muscles. He was used to the discomfort, whether it came from age or injury, but sleeping in the pilot’s seat hadn’t been kind to his back. 

A small noise in the back of the ship alerted him that his new shipmate was now awake. He was not yet used to having another passenger aboard his ship, functioning as a crew of one for so long. Living with the child had been one thing, but this was new territory even for him. It had been all that was on his mind: trying to figure her out, grappling with whether he had made the right decision taking her on, and if this woman was someone he could place his trust in. He mostly kept to himself, still trying to navigate how to go forward, part of him wanting to ensure that she didn’t feel uncomfortable.

They had grown accustomed to a dialogue of silence, each struggling to fall into this new routine and subsequently avoiding each other in the confines of a starship.

He was left wondering if he should have just kept his mouth shut and dropped her off at the nearest habitable planet. Against his better judgement, he’d employed her instead. All he knew was that in spite of just meeting her, the Child was absolutely enthralled by _Baar’ur._ He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, why the child seemed to feel so strongly about her, but truly it didn’t matter. That was the reality of the situation, and Mando would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a bit curious about her as well. He wanted to find out more about the courageous woman with an electrostaff that held her own against a Mandalorian and a couple of Imps.

He often found himself thinking back to that day on Ostor over those few days, always seeming to go back to that moment in her home where she, a complete stranger, had patched him up. If it hadn’t been for the fact his injury would’ve called more attention to him than he already does on his own, he might’ve declined her offer to help him and went on his way. At least that was what he told himself. Maybe the kid really had made him go soft.

His armor was only a partial barrier to those he let near him; his own inhibitions were responsible as well. He had felt completely exposed as she tended to his minor wound, and had to keep reminding himself how little she had actually touched his skin in her tender ministrations. In spite of his best efforts, his skin had burned, not just from his injury. And every time his mind would drift back to that memory, he felt the phantom warmth once more.

————————

_Baar’ur_ heard Mando return with the child, peeking her head out from the corner to offer him a polite and welcoming smile, not sure what to say to him. Everything had happened so fast, and she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t feel doubt peeking out from behind the clouds of fleeting excitement that once felt so ubiquitous. Bounty hunters rarely lived by a moral code; she knew it was a risk when she accepted his offer, but she needed to trust that her choice meant something great for her future.

Working at the medcenter had at least brought a bit of meaning into her life, and she missed feeling useful. She did her best to figure out what exactly her place in all of this was; it would certainly be easier to decipher than her impenetrable crewmate. Sometimes _Baar’ur_ couldn’t help but feel that her being there was a constant intrusion.

_If I weren’t here, maybe he could remove his helmet freely._

She had only heard stories in her youth of Mandalorians, each one veiled in mystery or glorified with violence. There had been whispers of what had become of them after the fall of the Empire, their culture largely remaining hidden to the outside world much like the Mandalorians themselves, and living with one did nothing to yield her intrigue. However, asking about his people ran the risk of being asked about her past, where she came from, or possibly what she was. So, she bit her tongue and carried her questions with her.

“Do you mind watching him while I get us out of here?” Mando broke the silence.

“Sure, no problem,” she answered quickly, visibly surprised. _Baar’ur_ tried her best to fight a grin at his request, her delight seeming to mirror the baby’s as his eyes lit up. It had taken a little longer than she had anticipated, but maybe Mando was starting to become comfortable with her tending to the baby. She walked over to pick up the youngling, his little arms reaching out for her.

Mando moved to grab ahold of the materials he had just brought in, situating them under his arm. Grabbing onto the cool rungs of the ladder, he began to climb the best he could until he stopped halfway. “He gets cranky when he’s hungry.”

“I’ve got him, Mando. Really, we’ll be fine.” She encouraged him to move along, laughing at his touching concern for the child once he was out of sight. A small hand fell under her cheek, bringing her attention back to the little one in her arms.

“Come on, let’s get you some breakfast. Apparently you’re monstrous on an empty stomach, and I have no desire to wreck the perfectly cute version of you that exists in my mind,” she teased, walking towards the back of the ship. She had just cut up some fruit and left it over where she had been sleeping for the past several nights, just ahead of the carbon freezing chamber.

While she hadn’t felt comfortable to explore the entirety of the gunship on her first day aboard, she had surmised that the repurposed medical cot belonged to Mando, most likely the only one made for the ship. It had been tempting to climb in and let sleep claim her from the anxiety that plagued her mind, but she didn’t want to impose. On one night, while she had been doing her best to wrap herself in the blanket to combat the coolness of the steel floor seeping through the thin fabric of her tunic, she found herself facing a minacious block of carbonite, the victim’s frozen face thankfully turned so she could only see the outline of a nose and partial profile. It had been a chilling sight she had—to put it lightly—not been prepared for, and she had done her best to face the wall, ignoring the burning stare of the chamber at her back each night.

Now, sitting there contentedly with the child, the hull of the ship had never seemed so harmless. Only a silvery voice and some squeaky gurgles could be heard over the low hum of the engines as Mando piloted the ship. After barely seeing the kid and never having a moment between just the two of them, _Baar’ur_ wasted no time growing closer to the young Force-user.

“I’m not sure what you usually eat little guy, but I do have some Honey Melon with your name on it if you want,” she offered, sliding the bowl towards him. She took a piece and put it in her mouth, chewing with a smile as she held another one out for him. “Go on, have some.” 

The child lowered his ears, evoking a questioning expression as his eyes landed on the diced fruit between her fingers. His small hands grasped it and hesitantly brought it to his mouth, taking a small bite into the yellow fruit. Almost instantly, his ears perked up and he widened his eyes at the new, sugary sensation. He began practically gorging on the fruit, attempting to eat the melon in one bite. _Baar’ur_ sat back and watched him enjoy his breakfast, quickly going through half of the bowl.

“Slow down! You act like you haven’t eaten in days,” she urged the child. “I guess you’re a little monster when you _are_ eating too.” Truthfully, she was elated the child had not only tried the sweet melon, but was wholeheartedly enjoying it. She waited for him to finally swallow what was in his mouth before holding up a finger. “Watch this.”

Her finger moved to the bowl and she focused her attention on the melon, willing it to move. She felt the connection to the object, tapping into its energy in order to manipulate it, just as she learned when she was a child. It was a simple move, one that she had plenty of practice using over the years. Sure enough, the fruit began to levitate, floating over to the child and teasingly circling above him before it fell into his outstretched hands. A joyful giggle left his body, only being silenced when he stuffed the entire melon piece into his mouth. He gave her a satiated smile, cheeks full of fruit and juice dripping onto his chin and his robe.

“I swear, you have us all fooled. You’re really just a Sarlaac in disguise, a real bottomless pit.” Unrestrained laughter erupted from within her chest, taking in the sight of him struggling to chew what was in his mouth. She gently moved his hands away from the bowl, waiting until he fully swallowed before he could reach for another piece. “Be honest, are you slowly digesting your victims for over thousands of years?” _Baar’ur_ teased, poking her finger into his tummy and lightly tickling him. Her playfulness elicited a cheerful giggle that carried throughout the entire ship, and her heart leapt at the sound.

She had forgotten that with burying that pain of her past, she had also buried the special moments that brought incomparable joy. Caring for Cerrik had been one of those moments, one that hurt too much to think about for a long time. Even thinking about him then for the first time in many cycles made her heart grow heavy. Sometimes when the child looked up at her, when the edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, he even reminded her of Cerrick. As she sat with the little green baby, her smile grew melancholic, realizing she seemed to have never lost her touch. It seemed a little ridiculous, but his attachment to her somehow sparked hope that maybe she was worthy of caring for someone, and being cared for in return.

“When I was a child,” _Baar’ur_ began tremulously, clearing her throat before she continued, “I was never sure who I was going to be when I grew older. My mother said I would be more comfortable with myself. Grow into my power.”

The baby’s glossy eyes blinked up at her in wonder, round with pupils shining like obsidian and so large they almost completely swallowed his brown irises. It was astounding to her that even with his limitations in communication, she knew that he was listening intently and fully comprehended her words.

“I don’t know when that day will come for me honestly, but you? I know there are big things planned for you, little one.” A shaky breath left her lips before they formed a small smile. She reached for a piece of melon, popping it in her mouth as her other hand extended towards the child and she gently rubbed his ear. “I wonder what you’ll be like when you’re older. We share some similarities, you know that, but as a person I mean. Will you like to make people laugh? Or speak in riddles?”

She nearly choked through a laugh at the thought that came to her mind. “Are you gonna grow up to be all serious with a cloak-and-dagger persona, like the Tin-Man?”

“Daggers were never my weapon of choice.”

The modulated voice behind _Baar’ur_ gave her such a fright that a small yelp left her body, her knee jutting out and nearly knocking over the bowl of fruit. Her head snapped back to face Mando who was leaning against the ladder, composed as ever. Heart pounding and hands shaking as she tried to steady the still spinning bowl, she then rose and stood to meet him. “How long have you been standing there?” 

“Long enough to hear about my cloak-and-dagger persona… and your puerile nickname for me,” he replied. With the way he stood there with his arms crossed, _Baar’ur_ couldn’t tell if he was irritated or amused.

She couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been there for long, though it did nothing to soothe the embarrassment she felt for what he had heard. “I didn’t mean—the thing is—what I meant to say was—” she stammered. 

“Is that Honey Melon in his mouth?”

 _Baar’ur_ ’s eyebrows raised, worried she had done something wrong. “Maybe?”

His incredulous tone melted away into one much softer, huffing in astonishment as he crossed his arms and relaxed his stance. “Never been able to get him to eat anything that didn’t have legs...”

She brought her gaze back up to meet his, eyes softening as she studied his appearance. To her knowledge, that was the first time Mando appeared to be at ease around her.

“He really likes it,” she stated simply, a small burp of affirmation coming from the child. _Baar’ur_ picked him up and brought his face to her’s, scrunching her nose playfully. “Can’t get enough of it actually.”

Mando watched the two of them for a moment before he pushed his back off of the ladder. “Follow me, I have something to show you.”

He led her up to the upper level to a door just across from the cockpit, the two panels retracting into the wall to reveal a nearly bare room. Some shelves with spare parts and other miscellaneous items clued her in that the room originally served as a storage area. The child wiggled in her grasp until she set him down, walking over to a corner with a collection of unconventional toys. He quietly began to play with them, particularly enraptured with a small metal ball he rolled across the floor.

Then, her eyes caught sight of a recently cleared area illuminated by the low light of a lone small lamp. In the corner of the room was a modern sleep mat, a clean pillow, and a new blanket, pristinely arranged with care. “Mando, is this for me?”

“If you are going to be a passenger on my ship, it only seems right that you have your own quarters. A place to sleep, some privacy,” Mando answered, voice growing tight.

“Thank you.” Her expression of gratitude brought his attention back to her, giving her a simple nod before he walked over to sit next to the child. He looked relaxed, one arm resting on his knee as if he regularly came in here to sit with the child as he played. 

“He certainly keeps you on your toes, huh?” she asked, a low hum coming from the vocoder as Mando stopped the child from putting the ball in his mouth. The silence grew from tolerable to unbearable and she decided enough was enough; she was through with small talk. Not entirely sure how to navigate becoming more familiar with the Mandalorian, she decided to ask a question she thought might be the safest. “When you said you stole something from the remnant,” _Baar’ur_ began cautiously, “you were talking about the child, weren’t you?”

It was more of an assertion than a guess. She wondered if he would shut this conversation down, but he instead took a deep breath before merely answering, “Yes.” 

“What happened?” She made her way over to the corner of the room, crossing her legs as she sat across from Mando and waited for him to elaborate.

“The child has special abilities, ancient sorcery of some kind. They planned to exploit him for some reason,” he divulged.

“I’ve heard of such things,” she lied by omission. It was what she had feared before, but his confirmation may as well have chilled her to the bone. They were searching for Force-users, no doubt for something downright diabolical.

Mando turned his head to meet her gaze, and she could feel a look of understanding pass between the two of them that indicated he didn’t plan on providing a verbose explanation. As she silently thanked the deities above that she wouldn’t have to feign ignorance any longer, she hoped he couldn’t sense her slight unrest as she did her best to conduct herself with discretion, her jaw set as if she were physically willing the secret she had kept hidden for so long to remain unheard.

“He’s saved my life on more than one occasion. First time he did, he stopped a mudhorn in mid-air.” He let out a small huff. “Hell, had to find out the hard way the womp rat could heal people.”

There was no point in masking her emotion this time. “Now _that_ I haven’t heard of.”

_Healing? How was that possible? To access that aspect of the Force… Was it innate, or could it be done with the right training?_

“Does that mudhorn have anything to do with the one on your armor?” _Baar’ur_ questioned, thinking back to her dream. She tried to appear unphased by this new information, hoping she was successful in bouncing back.

“Yes. The kid’s bravery earned us this signet. I swore to protect him with my life, to preserve my clan no matter the cost,” Mando professed, his voice heavy with promise, his even tone breaking only for a moment. He sounded almost… fearful. His hand found its way to the child’s back, fingers gripping onto the fabric of the small cloak. “This is the Way.”

There was something about how he spoke of the child and his small gesture to hold onto him that made her heart swell.

 _His clan. The child was_ his.

She fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve, the faded green fabric growing thinner each day. “Does he have a name?” she asked lightly. 

He shook his head in response, and she couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the thought of a crew made up of nameless nobodies.

“Fifty years old and he can’t figure out how to tell me his damn name.”

“Fifty years old?” she exclaimed, eyes wide as they darted back and forth between Mando and the little green youngling, this time gnawing on something metal that hung around his neck.

“Probably fifty-one now…” he responded airily, supporting the Child as he waddled over to Mando’s leg and grasped at the material of his pants. He freed the Child’s mouth of the pendant, running his finger over the ridges of the mythosaur before tucking it away under the lapels of the small cloak.

“Fifty years old… Stars, he really is a fascinating little thing isn’t he?” _Baar’ur_ reached forward to rub the top of the Child’s head before addressing him. “Half a century old and you’ve had more adventure in your life than I have. I bet you have some good stories, maybe even better than Mando’s.”

Her eyes drifted to the armored man, a smirk forming on her lips. The playful edge of her voice delivered her question in hopes that Mando would respond. “Is he older than you?”

Mando’s back straightened, concealed muscles tensing beneath the beskar. She immediately felt like she had made a mistake, making him aware of his age, clearly not something he wished to discuss with her. Pushing his palms to the floor, he brought his feet in and began to stand up.

“He may have me in years, but I surpass him in mileage.”

He knelt down slightly and reached out for the Child, lifting him up and walking across the room. “I’ll leave you to get settled in.”

She watched him hold the Child close, little green head resting gently on the metal pauldron. Mando turned once more as he stood in the doorway, pausing just for a moment before walking into the cockpit and closed the door behind him. Frowning at his departure, which was likely caused by her prying, she walked over the sleep mat, gently touching the fluffed pillow and running her fingers across the soft material of the blanket.

Clearly, Mando wasn’t a conversationalist; whatever the opposite of pleonasm was, that was Mando’s preferred method of communication. A nomadic lifestyle with a dirty line of work could do that to a person. He wasn’t someone who expressed through words, but rather through actions, and this was indeed a very considerate gesture. As she walked over to close the door to her room, she couldn’t help but feel her heart lighten at the thought of never having to sleep next to that chamber again. With quarters to call her own, the doubt and feelings of alienation began to fade away as she felt like she was truly part of his crew.

“Hey, kid,” she heard Mando say softly, so gentle that _Baar’ur_ stopped herself from pressing the button to close the door. Even slightly muffled through the thick metal, his tender tone was such a stark contrast to his usual hardened, detached tonality. Before today, she thought at some points he came off nothing short of severe and cold, but the way he was speaking now to the Child suggested anything but callousness. She sat on the cold metal floor of the _Razor Crest_ , curious to hear what more he had to say.

The sounds of nonsensical baby babbling erupted and filled the upper deck, to which Mando answered, “Really? No kidding.”

His words were followed by a low, rich staccatoed sound.

_Was that laughter?_

She had never heard him laugh before, and though she felt like she had been witnessing something not meant for her, she found herself wanting to hear it again.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten, _verd’ika_ ,” Mando said, the warmth of his voice comforting even his eavesdropper. “It’s been a year since the _gai bal manda_. I don’t know the date of your birth but... This day is special too.”

“ _Tion gar mirdir ni di’kutla_ ?” His question hung in the air, as if he were waiting for the Child to respond. “Guess we will see, huh, _verd’ika_?”

Small snores filled the upper deck, almost drowning out Mando’s hushed words to the Child as he dozed off. “ _Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad_.” 

Faint beeping came from the cockpit, startling _Baar’ur_ as she listened in on the tender moment between a father and his son. A staticky, unfamiliar voice spoke once the alarm was silenced, the transmission signal so low she could only make out every few words.

_Quarry. Ahakista. Casino. Elusive target. High rate._

She uncrossed her legs and stood from her uncomfortable position on the floor, slowly walking over to the cockpit. She heard words of parting exchanged by Mando and the mysterious stranger, finally reaching to open the door. She waited to enter, quietly leaning against the doorframe before Mando swiveled his body in the pilot’s chair to greet her.

“I take it you heard the message,” he assumed, and she immediately felt blood rush to her cheeks. “The job is five times the usual amount of credits.”

 _Baar’ur_ made her way into the room, walking over to Mando’s side. She leaned down and reached over carefully to hold the Child, who had been so peacefully resting on his father’s cuirass, shifting him in her arms as she gave Mando a warm smile. “Well, let’s not disappoint then.” 

Mando began setting the coordinates for Ahakista, and _Baar’ur_ settled into the passenger seat, cradling the sleeping baby carefully in her arms. She should have been asking more about where they were going, what this mission entailed, and what her role was. Truthfully, her mind was still reeling from discovering this other side of him: a father. He wasn’t just a bounty hunter saddled with a powerful child, he was above all a father protecting his son. There _was_ a heart underneath all that beskar—an extremely guarded heart, at that.

**_Mando’a_ **

**_Baar’ur:_ **Medic

 **_Verd’ika:_ ** Little soldier (also can be Private [rank])

 **_Gai bal manda:_ ** adoption ceremony, lit. name and soul

 **_Tion gar mirdir ni di’kutla?:_ **You think I’m foolish?

 **_Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad:_ **adoption vow - lit. I know your name as my child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Things are beginning to pick up... :)


	3. Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando and his new bounty hunting partner leave the baby at home and have a nice night out at the Daystar Casino. Sparks are flying—too bad their quarry is a huge third-wheel.

“What did you say he was wanted for again?”

Mando didn’t answer, indistinct clanking in the back of the ship tipping _Baar’ur_ off that he was busy preparing for their job and probably hadn’t heard her. They had just landed on Ahakista, docking in at Bay one-four only moments ago. Waiting for his response, she sat in the cockpit and continued to watch the blue-hued, static picture of the bounty’s head swivel above the holoprojector.

 _Vaston Rath._ _Not much information to go off of._

Her chin fell into the palm of her hand, studying the man’s face as it slightly distorted every few seconds. He looked to be around her age, maybe a little bit older, with long dark hair and trimmed goatee that might’ve looked utterly ridiculous on anyone else. Even through the terrible quality of the holographic image, she could tell from the smirk hidden in the corner of his lips that he thrived off of danger, using his looks, and no doubt some charisma, to charm his way out of his transgressions. It was intimidating, to be frank, and she could only hope that she’d measure up and be the partner Mando needed. God knows she was out of practice.

Suddenly, the image faded into nothing, a gloved hand pressing the holoprojector as Mando finally made his presence known.

“Owes money to the Hutts.”

He turned and descended into the hull of his ship as he continued to list off other characteristics of the quarry, _Baar’ur_ following closely behind.

“He’s a compulsive gambler. We’ll most likely find him wasting away at Daystar Casino.” Mando paused. “I’ll need someone to cover me.”

 _Baar’ur_ watched as he opened the weapons cabinet and stood back to allow her to peruse his selection. It was fully stocked and organized, every inch covered with hanging armaments of different varieties, some she had never even seen before. He must have been in the business for many years, acquiring a vast assortment of weapons for his selection of jobs. 

“Take your pick. Your staff is impressive, but I suggest something easily concealable,” Mando advised.

She approached the cabinet, taken aback by the imposing aura that radiated from his arsenal. Keenly observing some flash charges, she grabbed a few before finally moving towards the guns. It was her staff that she felt most comfortable with, but she had her fair share of experience gunslinging for the Rebellion. Her fingers ran over the cool, smooth metal of the ascension guns and blaster rifles before stopping on the sleek blaster pistol that caught her eye upon seeing his armory. The moment she picked it up and weighed it in her hand, she couldn’t deny that bubbling, familiar excitement that filled her as she held the pistol grip.

“You have a blade?” _Baar’ur_ asked.

He bent down, pulling out a sheathed knife that had been strapped to his boot and held it out to her.

Unable to fight a smile as she accepted the vibroblade and turned it over in her hands. “Who’s gonna watch the little one?”

“Got that covered. I have a friend that’s handled the kid before. She repaired my ship and protected him during a run-in on Tattooine before relocating here,” he explained, placing the Child into his pod, or what she had come to realize was his pram.

The thought of Mando being chummy with someone almost made her laugh. She scrunched her nose teasingly at Mando. “A friend?”

————————

“I see you managed to fly your ship here in one piece this time!”

A short woman with curly brown hair walked through the hangar to greet them, a hardened expression permanently etched into her features, just as Mando had described her.

“You gonna shoot my pit droids if they come too close to your ship again?” Peli challenged.

“Just make sure they keep their distance.” Mando stood tall under the ship, as if he were used to her harmless pestering. They spoke with familiarity, the hardness of their voices characteristic of their relationship, like some amusing game just between the two of them.

Peli turned to face the stranger that Mando had brought with him, her brows softening but still conveying slight confusion. “I also see you found someone to keep the little guy company.”

 _Baar’ur_ wasn’t entirely sure how she should introduce herself, but she stepped forward and extended her hand, which Peli accepted with a firm shake. “I’m Mando’s partner for the night, I guess.”

“Partner?” Peli looked between the two of them as she waited for an explanation.

“We have a job,” Mando interjected, getting straight to the point of why they were here, and what _partner_ actually entailed.

“Oh, so you come here without any warning, and expect me to drop everything just to watch your kid?” Silence fell over the hangar as Peli narrowed her eyes, which Mando seemed to answer with a knowing look. “Give him here then.”

 _Baar’ur_ handed over the Child, and watched as Peli’s entire disposition changed as he settled into her embrace.

“Hey there, bright eyes. Long time, no see.”

“Well, I’ll see you soon, my little Sarlaac,” _Baar’ur_ crooned at the Child, playfully pinching and wiggling his foot before looking over to Mando. She could sense the puzzled look beneath his helm, the question already on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m going to find something to wear for tonight. Something tells me _this_ won’t exactly help me blend in.” _Baar’ur_ gestured to her threadbare clothes before pulling a pouch of credits from her bag.

“Oh yeah,” Peli agreed absentmindedly, playing with the child’s ears. “All those fancy folk get all dressed up over at Daystar. Plenty of dress shops over that way.”

Mando was silent for a moment, but then nodded and reached into a pocket of his belt. As he took her bag, he pressed an earbud comlink into _Baar’ur_ ’s outstretched hand. “I’ll meet you outside the building at nightfall.”

————————

Leaving the Child never became easier. Din wanted nothing more than to get off this damn pleasure planet as soon as possible. Highly populated with elites lavishly flaunting their wealth, and lowlife scum doing their best to fit in where they don’t belong, like his quarry. It wasn’t that he didn’t still find his work exciting—he indisputably took pride in what he did, and how good he was at it—but these days something left him yearning for the pleasant moments he had with the Child, and how he wished he had more of them.

One day had changed Din’s life forever: the loss of his community as he knew it, but also his gaining a son. He owed it to his comrades, his friends, and even a droid. IG-11’s sacrifice ensured their survival, and with him died the only thing, living or not, that had seen his face since he was a child. He allowed Din to carry on his mission and start living his life for someone other than himself, and it seemed there was now another person in this new chapter of his story.

He walked towards Daystar Casino, testing out _Baar’ur_ ’s comlink and receiving a quick answer that she was there waiting for him underneath the main archway. The promise of the heavy bounty upon his quarry’s capture was also a reminder that while his earnings had lasted longer than usual now that he didn’t report to his covert, he was currently running low on funds. He _needed_ this job to go well tonight.

The frustration and stress was starting to eat away at him. As he approached the casino, he let out a heavy breath, convinced this night would hold no new excitement for him, until she finally came into view.

Din had never felt time stop before. Just the thought of _him_ of all people experiencing something like _that_ seemed absurd. Sometimes time seemed to slow down in the middle of combat, when he was especially in the zone and he could anticipate his opponent’s next move, always securing himself the upper hand. The closest comparison he could draw was when he entered hyperspace: when the stars surrounding the spacecraft freeze for just a moment, the tight pull in his stomach only releasing when the ship finally reaches lightspeed and hurtles into the unknown, always leaving him with that feeling of waiting for his brain to catch up with his body. To feel everything all at once, surrounded by the vast cosmic void.

But standing here now, he was certain: no trip through hyperspace even came close to comparing to how he felt in that moment.

Against his will, the grip on his belt tightened, his fingers digging into the brown leather as he took in the sight of her. The wind picked up a bit, catching the black cloak hung on her shoulders, almost flowing seamlessly into the wrap dress if it hadn’t been for the flecks of silver woven into the fabric. He even imagined the night sky itself had been fashioned into a dress for her. He was nearly lost in that thought when the perplexed expression on her face caught his attention.

“What? Is it too much?” She looked at Din intently, the bright, amber hanging lights reflected in her soft, umber eyes.

“Not my taste,” Din answered bluntly. What a bold-faced lie that was; she was anything but blending in. He didn't miss the flicker of dismay crossing her face at his apathetic claim.

“Good, _I_ pull it off much better anyway,” _Baar’ur_ shot back, turning his comment on its head. “Plus, these boots are great at holding your vibroblade.”

It was a dangerous game keeping his eyes above her waist, certainly not allowing himself to take notice of how her short skirt moved gracefully across her thighs as she stepped towards him, or how it accentuated how confidently she walked—in those tall boots that hid _his_ weapon.

They walked into the lobby of the Daystar as he relayed their plan, urging her to stay close, though he could tell she was distracted by the grandeur of the casino and its revelers. “... Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” she confirmed, bringing her hand to her forehead in a mock two-finger salute.

Din’s steps faltered briefly, just barely noticeable as they reached the entrance to the casino’s main room. 

“ _Don’t_ call me that.”

“Sure thing, _Soldier._ ”

He had been so close to turning around, but he curled his fist tight and kept his back to her as she peered over his shoulder. Had the atmosphere been so electric before? Looking into the main room, he attributed his feelings to the liveliness that radiated from the casino, boisterous and buzzing with dynamism.

“Well, best get in there,” she exhaled, heavily as if the air was dense. _Baar’ur_ straightened her posture, motioning with her hand to Din so he could take the lead. “After you.”

They hadn’t even made it five steps into the room without drawing a bunch of lingering stares, despite attempting to remain nonchalant. All eyes were on him, and at first he barely noticed since he was so used to it. It had only been when he felt an arm slide through his that he was aware of what was going on. Lucky for them, it began to put the spectators somewhat at ease, going back to their business. _Baar’ur_ let out a small sigh of relief beside him, walking with her chest forward and a coy smile.

He couldn’t deny it was a clever tactic to conform with the crowd, but it wasn't just that. Her comments, her behavior… She was trying to get him to relax. It was impressive, really. She was good, almost _too_ good, like she had done this before.

“You really know how to show a girl a good time, Mando. Play your cards right and I might go home with you,” _Baar’ur_ teased in a phony, excessively sultry tone.

“ _Focus_ ,” he ordered her, his stern tone dangerously leaning towards how he addresses especially stubborn quarries. Her quip may have just been part of innocent banter, an act to keep their cover, but the way it made his chest tighten triggered an unexpected defensiveness.

She stifled a laugh, throwing up a hand in faux defense. “Sorry, sorry.”

They tried to stay on the outskirts of the crowd, making it about halfway into the room when her hand grabbed his, pulling him to the nearest wall. His other hand reached out to stop himself from falling on top of her, and Din was forced to stare down at the pert woman beneath him.

“He’s over there, in the middle of a game of hintaro.”

“Harassing the dealer?” he asked, doing his best to remain unbothered by their compromising position. He was an experienced bounty hunter, skilled in his work, but he was also only human.

“Getting off on some Twi’lek taking a drag from his cigarette,” _Baar’ur_ smirked. She turned back to face her partner, now almost eye level with the heel of her boots.

Din regarded her with a tilt of his head, catching how she shifted slightly, knees just barely buckling. “Nervous?”

“I just feel bad for that poor girl over there.”

She had straightened at his words, looking past him.

“Think we’ll be over here long? We’ve already got some wandering eyes,” _Baar’ur_ informed him in a hushed, low voice. As she focused on Din, her eyes catching his own roaming ones, he suddenly became very grateful for his helmet. “Might have to play your escort for longer than expected.”

Din started to turn his head, but was quickly brought back to face the wall by a light, firm hand on the side of his helm. He’d have to loosen up in order to sell that he was here for leisure, and if he had to play the part, he might as well indulge himself a little.

“You play it well.”

She offered him a striking smile, raising her eyebrows at his boldness. “Easy, Soldier.”

Her smirk fell once a leather-clad knuckle propped her chin up gently. Din watched her neck tighten as she swallowed thickly, lips parted as she let him take charge. He leaned in, helmet dangerously close to her face. “Is he still there?”

All _Baar’ur_ could manage was a short, dazed nod once he pulled back. Din didn’t even notice if any bystanders were looking at them anymore, and he didn’t care. 

“Do you think he’s ever gonna move on, or should we take the initiative?” she asked, voice uncharacteristically strained.

He shook his head. “Too many people. We can’t cause a scene, he’d get away too easily.”

She huffed softly under her breath, then her neck craned to get a better view around Din, chewing the inside of her cheek as if an idea had dawned on her. 

“Do you trust me?”

His head cocked slightly to the side, waiting for her to continue, but she only sighed before leaving him with a quick, “Cover me.”

“What are you doing?” Din demanded aggressively, but it was too late, watching as she plunged gaily into the crowd.

————————

 _Baar’ur_ did her best to ignore his hushed, insistent calls for her to come back, weaving her way through glamorously dressed socialites. All while she struggled to keep her composure under Mando’s dominating, sturdy physique, she had noticed a very large man grow angry with Vaston before grabbing the Twi’lek girl and walking away with her on his arm. A perfect opening.

It would be risky, and absolutely demeaning, but she knew this was their best chance at securing their quarry. Besides, she could tell from his etiquette that she’d had her fair share of dealing with men like Vaston before. If he liked scantily clad women that stroked his ego with the promise of warming his bed, then that's what she would present herself as. Mando had brought her along on this damn mission, and she was going to make sure her assets were put to use.

“You need him alone, and away from public view. Let me handle this,” _Baar’ur_ reasoned.

Swiftly adjusting her outfit as she got closer to the hintaro table—cloak behind her shoulders, bodice sitting a little lower than before—she anxiously awaited for Mando’s response, wondering if he had enough faith in her to let her do this, or if he would say anything at all. 

_“I don’t like this.”_

It was a firm warning, but he relented.

Her heart had yet to cease pounding against her chest. Just the thought of being underneath Mando, her chin held with a gentle yet commanding gesture… Stars, she was getting flustered all over again.

There she was, right behind her target, who was dressed in clothes that were once lavish before misuse, just inches from being right back where she was only seven years ago. Field work was always exciting; not her area of expertise, but she always rose to the occasion. She needed to focus, to continue the act from before. Because that’s what that was, an act… right?

“Tough break,” _Baar’ur_ announced herself coquettishly.

Vaston turned to greet the stranger behind him, clearly annoyed to be bothered at first, but then eyed her up and down with a smug smirk. His cockiness hid his intentions well, leaving her with the feeling of being unable to tell if he was studying her appearance or sizing her up.

In every sense of the phrase, he was devilishly handsome. He looked upon her with eyes green and wild like a building wave before it crashed on the shore, threatening to pull a poor soul in.

“You dealin’ in, darlin’?” His unctuous tone almost made her shiver in disgust.

“I didn’t come over here for a game of hintaro.”

It was nothing she hadn’t done before. Gathering intel had required courage and skill, but mainly flattery. And really, how different was that from luring a bounty away to be captured? She so confidently fed him alluring compliments as he wasted away his credits on the next couple of rounds that he wasn’t even aware that she had clipped a micro-tracker to his pocket. But something about this job was different; her sweet talk came so naturally, it surprised even her. And it was all so… thrilling.

“You wanna get outta here?” Vaston asked, clearly expecting her to accept.

“Tired of chasing after a win?” 

“The dealer n’ I, our relationship ain’t exactly _foonta_ at the moment.” He regarded the dealer with a wave of his hand, to which the latter gruffly mumbled _maya sleemo_ under his breath with a look of contempt. Vaston either hadn’t heard or hadn’t cared enough to acknowledge the dealer’s insult, instead fixing his attention on _Baar’ur._ “Are ya puttin’ up a better offer?”

“If you win this round, I’ll let you take me home tonight,” she proposed, finger twirling a lock of his hair.

As the honeyed words left her mouth, she was reminded of when she had been harmlessly teasing Mando just a few moments ago. _Play your cards right and I might go home with you_. Of course she had been joking; they would’ve been returning to the _Razor Crest_ regardless of the night’s events, if all went well. But now, using that line on _this_ man, she felt ill.

“ _Buttmalia_ ,” the dealer called out gruffly.

Vaston’s lips curled mischievously, sealing his answer with a wink. “Deal.”

Final bets were placed in the center of the table, and Vaston blew a puff of air into his fist as he shook the dice. He released them, each one tumbling across the shiny holographic tabletop. Out of sight, _Baar’ur_ kept her hand beneath her cloak, extending two fingers and focusing her energy on the dice. Just as they tumbled to a stop, they were turned over once more, resulting in a number that resulted in Vaston earning his winnings.

The dealer’s face was priceless, eyes bulging out in disbelief and mouth agape. A chorus of defeated groans sounded off from the men surrounding the hintaro table, with Vaston laughing wildly as he gathered his chips.

“Fair is fair,” _Baar’ur_ spoke quickly, doing her best to lead him away from the table as fast as she could. “Do you always spend your nights at Daystar?”

Her rapacious quarry was so enamored with the winnings he stuffed into his pockets that he had begun to fall behind. He eventually stopped at a small, empty table, pulling _Baar’ur_ to his side.

“My crew and I are here for the night. Figured I deserve a break,” Vaston responded.

“ _Your_ crew?” _Keep on stroking that ego._ “So you’re in charge?”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Vaston drawled. She smirked at his arrogance, thinking he might instead be uneasy if he knew just what was coming for him.

He pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, flashing his teeth at her, a grin that conveyed that he knew something she didn’t, and he was just waiting for the moment she caught up.

“Can I get ya a drink?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t drink,” _Baar’ur_ lied, pouting to feign disappointment.

“C’mon girl, I’m bein’ nice. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” Vaston raised an eyebrow as he moved her towards him, persistent in his persuasion. There was no way she could trust a drink coming from him; she had to think on her feet, and fast.

“Don’t let me stop you from enjoying yourself. But, if you don’t hurry back, I might get distracted,” _Baar’ur_ warned him, pulling him closer.

He raised an eyebrow, reaching for her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. What would have been an otherwise sweet gesture from anyone else was sealed with an obnoxious wink, and he left her with a chilling bolt down her spine. Any sign of her flirtatious facade faded into anxious doubt, and she slowly began to back away from the sea of gambling tables.

“Kriff, this was a mistake,” she fretted. “I should’ve just accepted the drink and then ditched it. He has to know something’s up. And if he’s as shifty as they say he is…”

_“I won’t let anything happen to you.”_

His voice came across the comlink rather quickly, and although it took her by surprise, she appreciated it.

_“Look ahead.”_

Her eyes searched the room, desperate for any sign of her partner, when she suddenly caught sight of Mando. Posted at the entrance, he stood with his attention fixed on her—a gaze that was still unclear but heavy nonetheless—the same stance he had when they met outside the casino, but it shifted once he spoke again.

_“He’s coming back. Lead him to the alley. I’ll be there, and we can end this.”_

————————

 _Baar’ur_ giggled at whatever shallow, empty words were coming out of Vaston’s mouth. She could only pretend to listen for so much longer, and—thank the gods above—the alley was right there in front of them. Confident that Mando knew they were close since he had been tracking Vaston’s location and was there, ready to secure his quarry, she pulled him into the dark corner. 

“Y’know, I was missin’ a little excitement in my life.” Vaston pushed himself off the alley wall he had stumbled into, sauntering toward her. She stepped purposefully, moving her arm behind her waist, but froze once she heard a low chuckle from her target.

“You move fast, darlin’,” Vaston sneered before grabbing her roughly, twisting her arm behind her and pulling out the blaster that had been strapped to her back. “But not fast enough.”

**_Mando’a_ **

**_Baar’ur:_ **Medic

**_Huttese_ **

**_Foonta:_ ** Satisfactory

 **_Maya slimo:_ **Weak-minded slime-ball

 **_Buttmalia:_ **Bet


End file.
